Superficial Impressions

The concern comes over me,

needles me in my good nature,

leaving behind the framework

for the frivolous to rip apart

with the fury of a savage.

I am not a contestant

of your flawed perception.

I never asked for the verdict

you projected on me.

Why do I worry about your image of me,

when I couldn't possibly see inside your mind

to get a glimpse of it anyway?

Thoughts are what they are,

opinions without a voice

and some should stay unspoken.

This is Not My Job, This is Not My Problem.

While I'm here struggling to see
what's beyond my front door,
much bigger things are happening around me.

So many questions left unanswered
in this life seem to start with why.

Somewhere in my unspoken mind
my dilemma seems to be
from my window,

where I'm only able
to witness this world we built
crumble into dust;

all I want to ask is why,
when it became my job
to obtain any and all of the impossible,
did the initiative you failed to take
come crashing down on me?

Cut it Down

How many things do you need to bury
in order to move on?

Half of you is here,
while the other half
is rooted deeply behind you
in a dark place where you're unable
to see the faces of those who care for you.

They don't care about your past
or cater to the guilt you feel.

People worth calling friends are really family
when the rest of the world
seems to be fed up with you;

when the last face you want to see is your own,
look to theirs for comfort.

You never fully understand someone
unless you've lived their past
and with full contentment
realize how little you really have,

and remember when you need to be heard,
just listen to yourself first
to be sure you're still making sense
in such a nonsensical world.

Sweet Dreams, or Not. . .

I focus on my work tonight
with the worries of the clock
dancing in the back of my mind.

Even after all the hours go by,
the sun comes up,
and panic still sets in
like my first attack was yesterday.

So I put up blinds to block out the sun
with the fear that I may never sleep again,
if I can't see it,
it's not there,
right?

Why take a pill to end the anxiousness,
when delving deep into this task would do the same?

There are days when I wish I could function like everyone else,
and there are days when I do.

It's the persistent thought that doesn't let my mind rest.
The one that decides to come up with new ideas
as soon as I start to doze off,
and robs me of any rest I should have had.

The eyes are wide open,
the entire night wasted laying awake in a dark room
having conversations with myself in my mind about
everything, nothing, and anything.

Sometimes I wish my mind
would just slow down,
shut up,
and let me sleep.

What I Wish I Would've Said

I don't know the secrets you hide today
and I hope, despite how hard today may become
that you're always blessed with the courage
to break through this day
and the strength to live on until tomorrow.

A deep breathe will do you good in your quiet times,
so take one,
take two,
take as many as you need.

Remember to slow down and enjoy
the little bit of life you have left in you.

When life caves in around you,
close your eyes and pray to god it's not the end.

Then when all else fails,
fight for the life you've got,
because here is where you belong,
and here is where we need you.

We Can't Change the World

The world is a circus,

or so it has become,

and we're all performers on a stage,

or watchers in the crowd

who stand in awe and disbelief.

Where contortionists not only twist their bodies,

but twist the truth.

Where acrobats go to great heights,

risk their lives and fall for you.

Where lion tamers make them jump through flaming hoops,

then are stupid enough to put their head in the lions mouth.

The difference between the world and the circus,
is that a crowd large enough has the power to stop the circus.

Yes, No, Maybe, I Don't know

Sometimes life is a stranger,
sometimes
it's a mocking cover of who we are.

We live our lives in a photograph
where it seems a simple snap
will travel us around the world

and we all want to be loved for who we are
but are so starved for attention.

Sometimes we become a stranger to ourselves
we use to snap ourselves into a dusty box on the shelf,
become a distant memory,
then carry on into our futures.

Now it seems as if we're memorializing our lives
in stone as we go
and living in a state of nostalgia mourning.

Will we ever move on?
Do any of us know who we are anymore?
Where is the line on the page?
Where is the space for us to be ourselves, to be free?
Where is the empty page to be filled with individuality?

It's as if we're all victims of ourselves
and the pressure to post everything
for the world to see.

What happened to privacy?

We have the entire world at our fingertips
and instead of taking caution like we should,
we invite it into homes to personally destroy our wellbeing.

The price we pay for adoration
is often the cost of our self esteem.

Political Affairs

So many decide to steep in war.

The personal type,
where the chemical ego
takes over the subject of self
and control is given to the overtly charasmatic.

It seems as if no matter how much time passes,
there's always something
we take pride in fighting over,

and our priorities are so skewed
that we take precedence
in attacking each others character
over settling our differences.

It's Not Complicated

This love I say

it's alive,
it's alive.

They say a great one

will keep you wondering,
should you sail

or set it free 
to be released into the sea?
 
But we're alive,
we're alive 
to live for today.
 
So when the past

comes to cage you in

keep an eye open
for a place to descend
into the wild

where you belong.

Into the wild

where you belong
to live for today,
because you're alive
you survived
yesterday.